


Don't Let Me Get Me

by InkgooSupernova



Series: The Winter System [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Accidental Self Harm, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Bucky Barnes Gets a Hug, Bucky Barnes Has Panic Attacks, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes has DID - Dissociative Identity Disorder, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Domestic Avengers, Flashbacks, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internal Conflict, Kid Bucky Barnes, M/M, Multi, Non-Sexual Age Play, One Shot, Panic Attacks, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Self-Harm, Short One Shot, Wetting, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23721973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkgooSupernova/pseuds/InkgooSupernova
Summary: "HYDRA WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU YEARS AGO IF IT WASN'T FOR ME KEEPING YOU FROM DISOBEYING." That was the Soldier's voice, a little more rough than normal Bucky's. He and Steve had learned how to pick up on their voice distinctions. Sam mentally prepared himself as he stood from the table.This was going to be a tough one.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: The Winter System [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693231
Comments: 12
Kudos: 183





	Don't Let Me Get Me

**Author's Note:**

> Like some of the other stories in this series, this story is based loosely on personal experiences.
> 
> This chapter features mentions of blood and self harm as well as implied/referenced past abuse, heed the tags.
> 
> Reader Discretion is Advised.

" **I FUCKING HATE YOU.** " The booming shout reverberated through the apartment, startling Sam out of his thoughts as he sat at the dinner table, scrolling through his phone. A hard **bang** against the wall followed suit.

Oh boy, here we go.

Steve was out on another mission with the Avengers A-team. Sam was considered part of B-team, so whenever a mission only required the A-team, his mission instead was to watch over Barnes and crew.

Generally, having a weekend alone with your boyfriend while your other boyfriend was out on a mission shouldn't be that big of a deal. It should be fun and exciting.

But Barnes had _issues_. Issues that, while he had read about them and heard how they feel and seen how they interact together, he still didn't fully comprehend. It's extremely hard for a person who doesn't experience those issues to _fully_ understand what they're going through.

Sure, he had his own issues of feeling 'out of it', like he was watching himself from the other side of the room. But that was not _defined_ dissociation. That was undefined dissociation triggered by his own PTSD from his service. What Barnes was going through was 'defined dissociation', full mental splits caused by Complex PTSD. A result of chronic trauma to the point that the only way their brain could survive was through _extreme escapism_. Like setting up a decoy so that Barnes could hide, only for that decoy to take on a mind of its own. They each had their own thoughts, feelings, ideas, and personalities.

Sometimes, those thoughts and feelings conflicted.

" **HYDRA WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU YEARS AGO IF IT WASN'T FOR ME KEEPING YOU FROM DISOBEYING.** " That was the Soldier's voice, a little more rough than normal Bucky's. He and Steve had learned how to pick up on their voice distinctions. Sam mentally prepared himself as he stood from the table.

This was going to be a tough one.

" ** _I'D RATHER BE FUCKING DEAD THAN HAVE TO DEAL WITH THIS SHIT. IT FUCKING HURTS SEEING STEVE SO FUCKING HURT AT HOW BROKEN HIS FUCKING DEAD FRIEND IS. HE DOESN'T FUCKING DESERVE TO DEAL WITH OUR BULLSHIT._** " That was Bucky again, and judging by the high-pitched crack of emotion in their voice, there was someone else in the crossfire.

 _Jamesy_. Oh no.

There was the beginning of another shout as Sam knocked his knuckles against the closed door. Their room was soundproof. It had to be extremely loud for their fighting to penetrate the sound-dampening walls. The shouting match froze dead in its tracks.

"Bucky?" Sam called through the door. He wasn't going to leave Jamesy in there alone with these two fighting, so he bulked up his courage and pressed open the door, ready to grapple Soldier to the ground in case he accidentally startled him.

Instead, what he found knocked him right off his feet.

The 260 lbs body of muscle and metal was cowering in the farthest corner of the room, curled up on itself in a way that looked _painful_. There were streaks of blood on the bed and on the wall next to them. There was a puddle beneath them that had a dark line leading from a slightly smaller dark spot on the rug where the little ones' table usually was. The table that the little ones always color on was flipped onto its side with crayons and paper scattered _everywhere_. There were _boot marks_ on the _wall_. That would explain the bang from earlier, one of them probably kicked the wall in anger. Thank god for reenforced walls, otherwise there would be a hole in it, like _last time_.

There was _blood_.

Sam was immediately in _protective dad_ mode, needing to figure out why they were fighting, what caused it, and how he could stop it before it got any worse.

"... _sorry_." The voice that came from the cowering body was so quiet and _ashamed_. Normally, Sam would have immediately known that Jamesy had said that. But at this point, given how bad the scene before him looked, he couldn't tell _who_ was sorry.

"Where did the blood come from." Sam's voice was hard and serious. He was _terrified_. If Barnes' guts were currently hanging out of their belly and he had to fight them to get them to the emergency room, that would be an absolute _nightmare_ that he probably couldn't stomach.

The body before him just sunk further in on itself, tucking their head lower in shame and _fear_.

"Soldier. I _need_ to know where the blood came from." He knew it was wrong to manipulate Soldier's need to _obey_ , especially after what looked and sounded like a _nasty_ fight, but this was fucking _important_.

The body hesitated, before standing up slowly and walking over to him. There was a dark patch of urine on the front of their pants, leading down their left pant leg, that looked like it was starting to dry. There was also a splotch of deep red blood on the torn left sleeve of their shirt.

"ItwasanaccidentI _promise_ wedidn't _meanit_ -" They began furiously apologizing at a mile a minute, and Sam really couldn't tell _who_ was apologizing.

"Stop. One at a time." Sam knew he sounded overly stern and aggressive, but he was _scared_. He was scared that the people he loved were hurt. "Just show me the damage."

After a moment of hesitation, Barnes' trembling right hand peeled the bloody, torn remains of the sleeve away from the seam where the prosthetic arm met gnarled flesh. There was a small laceration, red and raw, like it was still in the middle of healing with their body's enhanced regenerative properties. Their eyes refused to even meet his chest like they normally do, instead staying glued to the floor.

"Soldier ripped the sleeve off," they began, and Sam really couldn't tell who was speaking. Their voice sounded so matter-of-fact and numb that it was most likely none of them, just their brain's autopilot explaining the wound like a car mechanic explaining a loose lug nut to an entitled, middle aged white lady. They must be _mortified_ if they feel the need to revert back to their Hydra-level extreme dissociation.

"And?" Sam tried to probe more of a proper explanation out of them. "I need to know why you're bleeding. This is _important_."

"...The nails caught the skin. Minimal damage, I am functional." The indifferent voice sent chills down Sam's spine. They were hurting, _bad_ , and he needed to help them. _Now_.

"Okay, thank you for being honest, now we need to work out exactly _why_ you were fighting." Sam tried to sound steady, but he was in completely uncharted waters. He wished that Steve was here. It was so easy for one to hold and comfort them while the other worked out the problem through words.

He really hated doing this alone, but he couldn't leave them hurting like this, not with a traumatized four year old caught between two fighting superpowers. He had to do _something_.

"I'll fix this, I'm sorry sir-" The words left their mouth like a cannon shot, their face turning to a look of confused horror.

"Buck, I need you to calm-" Sam was brutally interrupted by the body before him crumpling to the ground, like an origami swan under a hydraulic press. The terrified _wail_ that pierced through his eardrums caused him to involuntarily step back. The other man, now on the ground at his feet, was huddled into a pathetic pile, screaming out 'I'm sorry' over and over like an exorcism was taking place. Or like a child getting brutalized by a belt for reasons they did not understand.

Oh _no_.

Sam acted on instinct, scooping the heap of sadness on the floor into his arms as he knelt down to their level, letting them crash into his chest with almost bone-crushing force.

" 'M _SORRY_ I WON' DO IT AGAIN I _PROMISE_ PLEASE DON' MAKE M' PLAY TH' SCARY GAMES AGAIN _PLEASE_ -" Jamesy's petrified wails broke Sam's poor heart. They were hurting so _bad_ and he barely had the slightest idea of how to help.

Steve, he could _really_ use your help right now.

Sam just pulled the frightened child closer to his chest, hugging him so tight that his bones _popped_. He wanted to just hold him and make everything okay.

But he needed to talk about this, needed to get whatever hurt they were feeling to break the surface. This was not going to end clean.

"Buddy? Do you think you can let Soldier and Bucky talk to me about what happened back there?" Sam tried so very hard to shove his anxiety down. He _needed_ to be strong for his boys.

The body pressed to his chest trembled hard, and Sam couldn't help but think of the files that explained how their body reacted to cryogenic freezing, the things they had explained to their therapists.

"...hur's..." Sam could barely make out their voice, it was so quiet and _scared_. He sighed deep in his chest. He was _not_ a therapist. But the man he loved was hurting and needed _something_ , and he would be _damned_ if he left them for dead with their own thoughts.

"I know, I know it hurts," He rubbed the trembling body's back, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of their head to try and comfort him. "But I need you to be brave, I need to know what's going on so I can try to help." He tried so very hard to sound steady, his little boy was scared and he _needed_ a rock to keep him from going under.

He felt them tense under his arms, Soldier taking the reins to explain his side of the story.

"It was an accident," Soldier began, sounding so angry and upset, yet so dejected and removed. "The sleeve was making my arm feel staticky, I _needed_ to get it off, I didn't _mean_ to scratch the scars." He tucked his head, like he was bracing himself for a punishment. Even after the years of them being together and working so hard to move forward from that terrible place, they still could never get past the fear of being hurt.

Sam felt his heart _splinter_.

"Thank you for being honest, Soldier," Sam hummed, rubbing his back to try and soothe him. "You're not gonna be punished, you didn't mean to hurt yourself."

" _He fucking did mean it_." Bucky's voice spat out, so full of rage that Sam actually tensed on instinct.

"Bucky, you need to be more understan-" Sam was cut off as Bucky shoved himself out of his arms.

"No I _don't_ need to understand!" Bucky barked, eyes wet with their combined, frustrating emotions. "I don't need to sit here and try to reason with these assholes that fucking _ruined my life_! They're just another way for people to see how fucking **broken I am**!" He finally let himself pant, their internalized hostility practically visible, on display in the tensed lines of their form.

Sam was at a loss for words. He needed to be respectful to Bucky and his emotions towards his mental illness, but he also couldn't just sit there and let him hurt himself and the others by regressing in their recovery. He couldn't let him go back to thinking of them as _lesser_ or a _hinderance_ or a _burden_.  
He had to do _something_.

Bucky's emotional sniffle broke the sudden silence.

"...I'm sorry..." He wasn't saying it to Sam, his head tucked down, looking at his own arms that were currently hugging their knees tight to their chest. "...I didn't mean that, that was..." He couldn't help the way his voice cracked with raw emotion. "I'm a _monster_."

_He was talking to Jamesy. He must have felt how his words hurt the poor child._

Sam's heart _shattered_.

"Bucky, you aren't a monster. You're _hurting_." Sam gave the others the space they needed, but kept his body position open and welcoming, for when they inevitably needed to be held. "We all say things we don't mean when we're angry."

Bucky's eyes barely met his for a second, but that flash was all he needed to see the raw pain deep in their soul. Disregarding everything they knew and felt about looking people in the eye just to get their message across. They _needed_ him.

Sam held his arms open, and the other sniffled back a few tears before slotting himself against his chest. They were getting somewhere, they _had_ to be.

"...'m sorry..." Their voice wasn't meant for him, they were talking among themselves. Sam respected that, just providing the comfort they needed as they sorted this out on their own. This is what they needed this time.

It felt like forever as Sam held the shaking body of his little family together, rocking them gently as their barely coherent words to one another broke the silence every few minutes. Hearing them was like listening to someone talking in their sleep.

Sam felt the body in his arms curl in tighter, releasing their muscle's tension as they sobbed hard into his chest. That was all _Jamesy_. That was at least a sign that the other two had worked out their feelings enough to let him take the reins. Now was the time to comfort, time to keep his little boy safe from the aftershocks of the fight.

"You were so brave for me, it's okay, Jamesy." Sam cooed, pressing his lips to the other's crown, as he rocked him. "I'm so proud of you, it's gonna be okay, you're safe here. You're _safe_." That was the ever-so-important key word. _Safe_.

Jamesy spent the next hour pressed tight to his chest, wringing out every little drop of their pent up emotions that escaped from his eyes. He knew that his wet pants would be dry and unbearably itchy by now, but he made no attempt to move, so Sam wouldn't move either. Not until his little boy was ready.

"...Uncl' Sam?" Jamesy's rough yet high little voice finally croaked out, choked on a sniffle as he rubbed his eyes.

"Hm? Yeah, buddy?" Sam looked down to the boy in his arms, his heart softening at the sight of the tired soul cradled against his chest.

"...Can I hav' a bath, pl'ees?" Jamesy squirmed a little, the itch finally starting to get to him now that their brain wasn't so clouded with emotion.

"Of course, and when we're done getting you clean and patched up, I'll help you clean up, and you can help me make dinner. How does that sound?" Sam smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the boy's forehead.

Jamesy smiled at the kiss, a rosy pink blooming in his cheeks as he nuzzled his face into his chest. That was a good sign, he was comfortable and safe and _loved_.

"I'd like tha', Daddy..." He gasped a little, worried that he said the wrong thing and that he would get in trouble. " 'm sorry, I didn' mean t'." He whimpered.

"Hey hey, it's okay, you can call me whatever you think feels best." Sam hummed, pulling his little boy into a tight hug. He knew he did good when he felt the body held close to his chest begin to loosen and settle once again.

"Thank y'u, Daddy Sam..." Jamesy smiled, Sam could feel it against his chest, could hear it in the chirp of his voice. "I think I still lik' callin' y'u _Uncl'_ Sam too."

"That's perfectly fine. Now let's get you cleaned up, little man." Sam hummed and helped to lift the boy off the ground, leading him to the bathroom to help him get cleaned up. Their night wasn't nearly over, but it was definitely off to a much better start now.

After a nice, warm, safe bath, they could work on the rest of the clean up together.

**Author's Note:**

> **References:**
> 
> The title of this story is from the song 'Don't Let Me Get Me' by P!nk.
> 
> **Brief Explainations:**
> 
> In this story, Jamesy is caught in the middle of a fight between Bucky and Soldier, who began arguing after Soldier accidentally scratched the skin where their metal arm connects to their body. This accident leads to a brutal fight due to underlying emotional issues harbored by the two due to their trauma at the hands of Hydra.
> 
> Sam, being in a relationship with Bucky and his system as well as Steve, attempts to help stop the fighting in order to keep Jamesy safe. He is not a therapist, and he does have his own issues, but he helps them because he loves them and wants to keep them safe. The vise-versa of this will be explored in a later story, where Bucky's system will try to help Sam when he feels hurt.
> 
> These are all based on **personal experiences** and are not meant to explain or educate all DID systems, symptoms, or how they work. These are simply examples from our own experiences as a traumagenic DID system. No two people or their experiences are exactly alike, so these will not apply to every single case of DID.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated, and thank you for reading!


End file.
